


Out of reach

by HeyGina



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Hurt No Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Sad, This Is Sad, Torture, Whump, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, implied - Freeform, no happy ending, stevebucky - Freeform, the tragedy of bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29510490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyGina/pseuds/HeyGina
Summary: Everytime the Soldier wakes, there’s bits and pieces from a life he does not know.He can never get to them. He can never reach them. He can never grab them.It’s like something that's eternally out of the corner of his eye. Something that’s close enough to sting, but not enough to touch.(- in which the Winter Soldier is sent to kill Howard and Maria Stark and complies, but Howard recognizes him as someone he doesn't remember being, and it brings back all sorts of things.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Out of reach

_“Sergeant Barnes?”_

Everytime the Soldier wakes, there’s bits and pieces from a life he does not know.

He can never get to them. He can never reach them. He can never grab them.

It’s like something that's eternally out of the corner of his eye. Something that’s close enough to sting, but not enough to touch.

Every time the soldier wakes, there's ice sitting deep inside his soul. By the time it starts to melt, the bits and pieces seem to be a little closer, but there’s not enough time. There’s never enough time. The bits and pieces are closer, but so is the chair, and the chair takes everything away.

The bits, the pieces, the ice.

_“Sergeant Barnes?”_

Sometimes, when they send him out there, there’s bits and pieces that come from that outside, instead of the inside.

It’s not broken shards of forgotten memories, it’s small details around him, details that would bring back those memories if they weren’t so deeply forgotten.

A place. A face. A name.

He ignores them all. He can’t do anything else, because they don’t truly mean anything. They’re just there. Bits and pieces, out of the corner of his eye, out of reach.

But they’re there. And they sting.

_“Sergeant Barnes?”_

It’s a simple mission. December 1991. Two targets. Eliminate both of them. Take the cargo.

It’s a simple, easy mission.

He doesn’t even flinch when the first one speaks the name. _Sergeant Barnes?_ , he asks, and dies mere moments later. The second target follows, just as simply, just as easy, but the name still rings in his head. _Sergeant Barnes?_

It’s still there when he goes back to them. When he’s asked for a mission report. When he gives said mission report. It’s still there, and it means everything and nothing at all. Out of reach—until it’s not.

_“Sergeant barnes?”_

“Soldat?”

“Barnes,” the Soldier says. His voice us broken, rusty, hoarse. “Who’s Barnes?”

 _That’s_ what does it. Saying it out loud.

The name on his own tongue makes the bits and pieces come to the front of his mind, and, for once, the chair isn’t there to stop them.

No. _He_ is there The ice starts to melt, and he's still there.

Sergeant Barnes. Barnes.

“Soldat.”

No. _No._ Not soldier— _Barnes._

_James Barnes._

The name on his mind brings more bits and pieces forward. It reaches inside of him, past the ice , and pulls them out. They’re all there, this time, in front of his eyes. In front of him to touch, to reach, to grab. Places. Faces. Names.

A metal table. A war camp. An old apartment in Brooklyn.

A short friend. A bruised face. Light hair.

Barnes. James Barnes. Bucky.

_Bucky._

_Bucky, no!,_ he’d yelled.

He. _Him_.

_Short but now tall bruised face light hair blue eyes Steve Steve St-_

By the time he gets to that name, he’s run out of time.

For the first time in a couple of decades, Bucky Barnes has managed to come out—but the chair is there.

The chair is always there. Sometimes a little bit sooner, sometimes a little bit later, but there, nevertheless, and there to take everything away.

The bits and pieces. The faces and places and names.

His name. Steve’s name.

Gone. Frozen. Forgotten.

And, for another couple of decades, Bucky Barnes goes with them.

**Author's Note:**

> i made myself sad writing this i hope you enjoy


End file.
